


Three Times

by egoblow



Series: Countless [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Okami Hanzo Shimada, One Shot, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Vampire Jesse McCree, Werewolf Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 18:18:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12658866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/egoblow/pseuds/egoblow
Summary: The first time is at a seedy club in Hanamura named the Dragon's Den.The second time is clutching his brother's limp form.The third time is deep in the forest beyond Hanamura.





	Three Times

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in between all my Moira feels. I'm still kind of reeling that I wrote the OC for Jesse's mom in _Under the New Moon_ as some desert witch with a history with Gabriel named Moira the Mad and it actually works? 
> 
> Anyway, this is my lame attempt at flirty vampire!McCree. I hope you like!

The first time they meet is at a club in the seedier part of Hanamura called the Dragon's Den. The floor is stained by years of spilled drinks and other unmentionables. The air is thick with the scent of warm bodies and stale liquor. 

There are five days until the next full moon and he can feel the energy buzzing through his body like a drug. He feels strong and confident, but antsy with too much energy and not enough to do. There is nothing more that he wishes for than to run naked and free through the woods bordering Hanamura, but the time has not come yet for their pack's run. 

Instead, Hanzo, emboldened by his brother's recent discovery of some certain private files on his laptop, allows himself to be dragged into the Dragon's Den. 

He blames the reckless vigor of the impending full moon on the foolish choice. 

"There is no need for shame, dear brother. I will even help you," Genji had promised with such eagerness in his eyes that Hanzo could not back out. The older Shimada had long ago learned that it was always better to indulge in his sibling than to protest. Besides, he could not bring himself to shun the warm acceptance that his brother showered him in once his secret had been revealed. Their relationship had often been strained by the pressures of their family so it is an odd relief to share this with his brother. 

"Our secret," Genji had grinned before announcing, "If anything, I am not picky with who wishes to join me in bed-- Women, men, and all outside the binary."

And thus, Hanzo finds himself clinging to Genji's hand as the younger Shimada navigates their way to the bar. Halfway through, with blinding neon lights and blaring music, Hanzo finds his grip on Genji's hand slip. He loses him in the sea of dancing bodies that jostle him around until he is shoved into a corner. 

The crowd, the noise, the smells, it is all too much for Hanzo. Too much for his heightened senses. Overwhelmed, like a wounded animal, he retreats into the corner until he can press himself against the wall. His eyes are wild, searching the dimly lit expanse of the club for the shock of neon green hair.

"Feelin' shy?" A deep, smooth voice asks, cutting through the beats of the club music. Hanzo shivers from the cool breath tickling his ears. He turns, moving away from the stranger with nimble reflexes. 

The stranger chuckles, brushing his hair back with his fingers. He smiles at Hanzo while meeting his eyes. They're dark brown, verging on black. The stranger holds out his hand.

"Name's McCree. Jesse McCree," He offers, leaning in so he can speak his name without having to scream over the music. 

Hanzo hesitates, looking the man over. He is foreign, but handsome. Exactly like the type of men Genji discovered in his forbidden folders. He is taller than Hanzo with thick muscles filling out the black shirt he's wearing. Messy brown hair that sticks up in odd places. A scruffy beard frames thick, plush lips. Hanzo stops, noticing the peek of teeth too long and sharp to be mortal. 

"Easy there, darlin'," The man known as Jesse McCree murmurs, catching Hanzo's hand as he moves back, alarmed by the fangs. 

"Vampire," Hanzo growls, eyes flashing gold as his wolf rises. 

"Now, hold up, sweet pea," Jesse lets go, hands raised in surrender. "Just tryna say hello. Not everyday I get to be in the company of a fine wolf such as yourself."

"I do not trust your kind," And for good reason. They had grown up with stories of a long-standing feud with a neighboring vampire clan that had nearly driven their pack to extinction.

"Neither do I," The vampire admits easily. 

Hanzo narrows his eyes, scrutinizing the vampire under the dim lighting. The gaze he levels on the other man is interrupted as a drunken fool crashes into him, sending him stumbling forward into the vampire's arms. Jesse laughs, amused by the situation he finds himself in.

"Easy there."

Hanzo pulls back, trying not to think about the way the vampire's cool hands feel in the suffocating warmth of the club. He swallows thickly, fearing what the restlessness of a nearing full moon may make him do. 

"Look, all I'm lookin' for is a nice way to spend the night. No snacks, no fights, just tryna suck face with a handsome fella," The vampire looks almost sheepish as he lays it all out for Hanzo, honest and open, eyes begging for a good answer.

After a moment with Hanzo staring him down, the vampire sighs, defeated. He steps back. "Fine by me. I'll just be on my way. Ain't lookin' for trouble."

Hanzo watches the vampire retreat. His body thrums with life, the wolf within scratching to come to the surface. The electronic beat of the music makes it worse, the quick tempo seemingly demanding a choice from him. The vampire starts to shoulder his way into the crowd, perhaps hoping that the anonymous folks around them will hide his trail. It is clear the vampire is true to his words, wishing for the company of another more than anything else.

_Prey._ His wolf whispers. 

Hanzo moves before he can even comprehend his actions with instincts overtaking thought. The full moon's pull is too strong, even a week out, and perhaps... Perhaps Hanzo finds it to be a convenient excuse for what he is about to do.

Tracking down the vampire in the sea of mortals is easy. He finds the one named Jesse McCree sliding his hands over a slight mortal, dumbed by alcohol and a vampire's enthralling gaze. Hanzo snorts, laughing at the pathetic weakness of the human before he grabs a fistful of hair. He pulls, demanding in his grip on the hair, until the vampire turns his head far enough for him to smash their lips together. 

Any hint of a question is lost as Hanzo pulls the vampire close. He wraps two possessive hands on his waist while biting and nipping that plush bottom lip. The vampire known as McCree falls into step easily, grinning into their messy kiss and making sure to drag his sharp fangs along Hanzo's lips.

"Didn't expect this," Jesse murmurs, sliding a chill hand under Hanzo's shirt. 

"Even a vampire is better than a pathetic human," Hanzo reasons against Jesse's lips, enjoying the way his heated skin cools against the vampire's touch. "Besides, the full moon approaches."

Jesse laughs, seeing through the defense. "Not for another five nights, honey."

Hanzo shuts him up by capturing Jesse's lips in another hungry kiss. The wolf within keens with pleasure having caught its prey. Their bodies press against each other like fire and ice meeting. His hands explore the solid form of the vampire before him, appreciating the hard muscles and the surprising softness around his belly.

He allows himself to get lost as they sway and grind to the music. Lost to the exhilarating prick of the vampire's beard rubbing against his clean shaven cheeks. Lost to the way that the near-black eyes regard him with hunger and awe. 

The full moon is approaching soon, and tonight Hanzo will allow himself this pleasure. 

 

* * *

 

The second time is in an empty parking lot. Hanzo can't remember driving here, but he somehow did without crashing the car. He is soaked from the rain, sweat, and blood, though he tries not to think about the last one. He grips the steering wheel though the car has long been off, but his hands are restless and need something to do.

Behind him in the backseat of the car is Genji, stretched out, but too still with his torn leather jacket keeping him warm.

Hanzo can feel tears prick at the corner of his eyes. He wills them away, knowing that the moment they start, it'd be impossible to build up that dam to stop them again. He grabs his phone and checks for messages, but there are none.

He curses at himself, slamming his forehead against the steering wheel while wondering if he could somehow trade Genji's life for his own.

The whole matter had been foolish of him from the start. Their lives did not need to go down this path, but it had with Hanzo's jaws tearing into Genji. 

_It had to be done,_ They had promised. _For the sake of the Shimada name._

But this would not be the first time that They had been sorely wrong. Hanzo thinks back to all those stories of vampires, evil and wicked, and wonders how many of them had been false. He thinks back to that one night in the Dragon's Den and how sweetly they had kissed.

It is why Hanzo is here now. Desperate and alone, a man with no choice.

He wonders if Genji is truly gone now, cold and dead, when another car joins them in their empty lot. The headlights of the other car blind Hanzo until they switch off. He stares, numb, as a familiar figure climbs out from the car. Bearded with his hair looped back in a loose ponytail, unease and confusion marring his handsome face.

Jesse McCree.

Hanzo bursts out of the car to stand in front of the vampire.

It has been four years since that night together. Since the vampire had offered him his number that had gone unused until tonight. Hanzo might almost cry from relief, but he stops himself, unwilling to break down in the presence of the vampire.

Jesse sniffs the air, brows furrowed in confusion. "What's all this? Don't hear from ya ever and the first thing I get is you reeking of death and despair."

"My brother--" Hanzo chokes out before he glances back at his car. It is all Jesse needs to know to understand.

"I ain't the healin' type, Hanzo," Jesse murmurs softly. His dark eyes roam over his features, noting the ugly gashes where Genji had managed to defend himself. He notes the way the blood soaks through the light fabric of Hanzo's clothes and how there's too much of it to just be his own. "What happened?"

"I cannot-- You must save Genji!" Hanzo pleads, eyes wild and desperate. The look must be something new because Jesse steps back in surprise. Never before has he seen such a proud man break before him.

"I can't do shit, Hanzo," Jesse replies softly, still trying to find a way to help a one-night stand as best he can.

"You can turn him," The words are sharp, laced with desperation. Hanzo steps forward and grabs Jesse by the shoulders. He stares up at the taller man, eyes full of pleading. "Save him."

"You can't make that choice for him," Jesse murmurs, voice quiet and weak. He knows from personal experience what kind of Hell it can be. He knows that he wouldn't wish it on himself, let alone some fling's unknown brother. "'Sides, ya hardly know me. Don't know why you're thinkin' I'm fit for this kinda thing."

"I know enough," Hanzo snaps. His hands fist in Jesse's shirt, pulling him closer. "I will do anything for you."

"There ain't a price for this kinda work," Jesse shakes his head. He gently raises his hand and brushes the wet locks stuck to Hanzo's forehead. "It ain't a pleasant start. Can't say for sure he'll ever forgive you-- or me-- for it."

The words quiet Hanzo. He wonders to himself if it is out of pure selfish greed that he wants Genji to live after he struck him down. The guilt is already so immense, like a violent sea crashing in waves on top of him.  He sucks in a sharp breath. "I will owe you my life. My servitude. My blood," He pauses before adding on. "If you do not then I will ask another to do so."

The threat makes Jesse still. Five years in Japan is enough to know the dynamics of the local clans and packs. Enough to know that putting a Shimada in the hands of their rival vampires would be an ugly, ugly deal to make.  Looking into Hanzo's eyes is enough for Jesse to know that Hanzo would risk it. 

"You fuckin' fool," Jesse whispers before pushing Hanzo away. The shorter man falls, exhausted and too numb for his reflexes to catch him. Jesse opens the door to the car, effortlessly picks up Genji's still form, and slams the door. He holds the younger Shimada like he's something precious before snapping at Hanzo, eyes suddenly as cold as his touch.

"I'll do it, but think it's best ya don't seek him out," There is a true threat to Jesse's voice. "And me, for that matter."

The car door slams, wheels screeching as it speeds out of the lot. 

Hanzo remains on the cold asphalt and finally lets his walls crumble. He cries long into the night until exhaustion swallows him whole. 

When he wakes, he climbs into his car to begin a life anew.

 

* * *

 

The third time is deep in the woods beyond Hanamura. The Wolf spends most of his days hunting down his next meal and getting bits of sleep whenever he can. He sleeps huddled under large trees and rocks, whatever he can find. 

The Wolf denies himself better shelter, thinking he does not deserve more. He cannot remember why he does not deserve better anymore. Those thoughts have long been buried under animal instinct. 

It is a lonely life.

Once upon a time, the Wolf had been told stories of men who remained as wolves for so long that their existence as men had been erased. Long ago, the Wolf had dismissed those tales as stories to frighten young pups, but now he knows them to be true. There are hazy thoughts and memories that threaten to re-open wounds he cannot remember making, but losing himself to his instincts and primal desires makes him forget such thoughts. 

There is some semblance to pleasure when the full moon is out and he is running free through the woods. The Wolf can lose himself in pushing his body, running as far and as fast as he can, as if fleeing some years of foolish choices. He pushes himself, dashing through the woods long after his prey had vanished out of sight. 

He runs and runs and runs, guided by the full moon's light until his body gives out and he collapses. Heaving giant clouds of hot breath, The Wolf remains on the cold dirt ground. His white fur is a beacon in the dark expanse of the woods. A shining target for all those seeking it.

He doesn't care anymore if he's seen. Sometimes, he allows himself to be glimpsed by hikers and hunters. He wonders if enough sightings will lead to a formal execution and a welcomed end to a miserable existence. It is an unhealthy, evil strain of thought that has rooted in the mind, but it never remains for long, vanquished by the drive for survival of his instincts. The Wolf knows that thinking too much like a man is a danger to itself. 

"Just beggin' to be found, ain't ya?" A honeyed voice calls out. It feels familiar, but most of his human memories have become vague and lost in his haze. 

The Wolf lifts his head, focusing in on a distant figure watching him from a gnarled tree. He slowly lifts himself up, a growl rumbling thickly from the pit of his chest. 

"C'mon sweet pea, ya know me better than that," Twigs and leaves crunch under the heavy footstep of the approaching figure. The Wolf snarls, threatening, body posed to strike. 

"I know we didn't leave on the best of terms," The figure sighs, hands held up in a sign of peace. "But I heard about a big ol' white wolf was terrorizing these parts."

The Wolf lets out a sharp bark, warning the man to step back. His eyes glimpse at the glint of metal strapped to his side and wonders if it will come to use. 

"You remember me, don'tcha?" The voice softens as the man kneels on the ground. "Spent seven minutes in Heaven with ya." A quiet hum, thoughtful. "Nah, was more like an eternity."

Distant images rise to the surface. He remembers soft, cool touches in a heated room. Thick, powerful arms holding him up against a wall. Biting kisses that left his lips -- human lips -- raw and swollen. The images push past the single-minded guilt that had shrouded his mind.  The Wolf relents, stepping back with his ears pressed flat against his head and his thick, white tail curled beneath his body. He feels confused though he isn't exactly sure why. The man before him is familiar, but the sight of him recalls too much pain.

"You been like this ever since I left ya?" The man asks, a frown tugging on his lips. "That ain't any way to live."

The man reaches out and tries to pet him. Running on instinct, Hanzo turns and snaps, driving his powerful teeth into the man's left hand. He curses and pulls back, but finds the hand trapped in Hanzo's maw. 

\-- The sensation of his teeth driving into the human flesh jolts The Wolf. The feeling is too familiar, too tied with a certain memory that makes his heart pang with hurt. He opens his mouth and pulls back, tail tucked between his legs as he retreats. The man hisses, holding his mangled hand close to him. "Forgot you're one helluva biter," He murmurs, mostly to himself. 

"C'mon Hanzo," He sighs and the name pulls at him. It had been so long since he last heard that name. So long since he considered himself to be anything more than a wolf. 

The Wolf whines, uncertain, the name like a flare in his haze of animal thought and instinct. The pull of the full moon is like a rope tethered to his leg, keeping him firmly in the grasp of his wild mind. Yet a part of him emerges with the sound of his name, a sound that he had not heard in so long and craves. 

"Not leaving without ya, Hanzo," The man murmurs. He approaches and reaches out with his left hand again. It had been mangled moments ago, but rapidly looking better, the flesh stitching itself back up. 

T he Wolf growls though the effect is weakened by his confusion. He stares at the hand before allowing himself to be petted. The hand is light, cautious, but still desperate to smooth down the dirtied white fur.  He freezes at the touch, and is surprised to hear the soft whine coming from his own throat. It has been so long, so long since the Wolf has felt anything, but the hard dirt ground and sharp wind. He presses into the touch willingly before taking a few steps closer to the man.

"Atta boy," He murmurs before pressing his other hand into the matted fur. "Been gone a while, haven't you?"

The Wolf whines, trying to say yes. He presses himself closer, practically climbing onto the man's lap. He looks up, meeting dark eyes that penetrate the hold of the wolf into his human core. Their eyes remain locked as the man continues to murmur his name encouragingly.  He cries out, bones suddenly snapping and muscles contorting. It's been so long and his body has forgotten the way it feels to transform. He shrieks in pain though he feels strong arms hold him tight, telling him it will be alright. 

Hanzo shivers, no longer protected against the elements without his wolf's fur. He stares up at Jesse, brows knitted together in confusion and relief. He tries to speak, but it's been too long and his throat is too dry so instead he curls into the other man.  Jesse picks him up and carries him far away from the forest where he lost himself. His consciousness slips away. He sleeps for what feels like the first time in years. 

When he wakes, he is warm and hugged by the weight of heavy blankets. He is laying on a plush mattress and the weight of another body by his side. Hanzo turns and finds Jesse lying on his side beside him. He is asleep, as deemed by the daylight hours on the clock.  The vampire's hair has fallen over his face. Hesitantly, Hanzo reaches out to sweep it away from face and lets his fingers graze over the rougher hair of the beard. The vampire known as Jesse McCree looks exactly as he did years ago when they had first met in the Dragon's Den. Back when Hanzo had still been a brother to Genji.

_Genji._

Hanzo stumbles out of bed, feeling out of breath and as if a vice has clamped down over his heart. He cannot bear the sight of the vampire, reminded of a cold night out in the middle of nowhere. He trips over his feet to leave, but is stopped by a collection of frames huddled on the corner on the dresser.

A familiar shock of neon green greets him, coupled with a trademark smile. A breath hitches in Hanzo's throat as he steps closer, grabbing the frame. Jesse's arm is looped around the smaller man, their expressions light and joyful. 

Hanzo feels wrong for partaking in their joy. 

He curls up on the ground, staring at the photo and matching each feature to his returning memories. Genji, smiling, with his trademark green hair. It had been a sight prominent in his youth.

Yet the sight of Genji still laughing, mirthful, with the vampire makes confusion twist in his gut. He recalls the last time he saw Jesse McCree, the way that he had forced both Jesse and Genji into this life. He remembers the biting words and the hateful look before Jesse disappears with his brother. 

He had not thought that he would ever see his brother smile again.

Not after he had fulfilled a cruel and unjust death sentence.

Not after he had forced a harsh, unforgivable life.

Hanzo remains there, curled around the picture frame, and passes out again. He lets himself savor dreams of back alley ramen shops and summers spent fishing by the river. 

When he wakes, he is back in the plush bed. The weight of the vampire is beside him again. Hanzo lifts his head, quietly observing the other man. The vampire is sitting propped up against the wall with a book in his hand. He realizes that the other is buried in his hair, petting and soothing Hanzo.

"Awake?" Jesse asks without looking away from his book. He starts to remove his hand from the tangled mess of Hanzo's hair, but Hanzo desperately grabs it and forces it back. He cannot speak to why he wants the hand in his hair, but he knows it soothes him.

"Why?" Hanzo rasps and flinches at the sound of his own voice. It is the first time he has spoken in so long and it is hoarse, ugly. 

"'Cause I was asked to by a Shimada," Jesse replies with a small smile. He lowers his book and sets it to the side. "Your brother, to be specific."

"Genji?" Hanzo asks, voice barely above a whisper. His brows furrow, confused. It does not make sense. Why would he when Hanzo had doomed him to the cursed life of a vampire?

"Mhm. I should start chargin' you Shimadas for always requestin' my services," Jesse chuckles, allowing himself a moment of brevity. His features grow solemn again, tired. "He isn't here if that's what ya were gonna ask. In Nepal. With friends, but he'll be back soon enough."

"Friends?" He feels overwhelmed by everything, unsure how to interpret all that has been given to him. He thinks of the photo of Genji with Jesse, laughing, and wonders how often his brother does that now. 

"Mm, friends. He fit in nicely with my ragtag group of buddies," Jesse pauses, mulling over his words quietly. "He's good. A lil' shit, but a happy one."

Hanzo looks down. Now. Because it had not always been that way. Shame and guilt threatens to swallow him whole as he thinks about the many times he had failed Genji as his brother. He twists his fingers in his mess of hair, tugging at it to elicit the pain.

"Shh, stop that," Jesse chides, his grip firm as he pulls Hanzo's hands away. He holds them to the side, looking down at him. "Ain't a fan of you hurtin' yourself."

"I deserve worse," Hanzo replies, pulling his hands free from Jesse's grip.

"I woulda said that a while back, but nah," Jesse sighs, tired. "In all honestly, ya probably made the right choice."

Hanzo lifts his head, brow raised in confusion. 

"I mean the second one-- The one where you got me involved. Not the-- the first one," Jesse explains and returns a hand to Hanzo's hair to soothe him. "Genji's-- He's good. Happy. It's why I'm here."

"I do not deserve your sympathy," Hanzo murmurs though he leans into Jesse's touch.

"I ain't here for pity then," Jesse looks thoughtful before his dark eyes light up, struck by an idea. "Came here to collect is all."

"Collect what?"

"Remember you promised me yourself back when I took Genji in."

The memory of that floods him. The feelings of utter desperation to drive him to relinquish it all. He closes his eyes, trying to stem the tide of emotions that he recalls. "I did. And?"

"Well, I'm thinkin' you promised your life to me and havin' ya runnin' 'round the woods ain't really doin' it for me," Jesse continues. Hanzo stares, confused as to where this is leading.

"So what I'm sayin' is this: you're gonna repay me for your debt. You're gonna stay here and live with me and you can't say otherwise 'cause you owe me," The words feels serious, but Jesse speaks them as if he's unsure of what he's proposing. Like he doesn't really mean anything dire with them.

"And do what?" Hanzo furrows his brows, unsure of how to interpret the vampire calling up his debt of servitude. 

"I dunno, maybe get a haircut for starters," Jesse shrugs, surprisingly nonchalant for the situation. "Get better is all I want-- All Genji wants too."

Hanzo is at a loss for words. He expects anger and resentment, pain and even death for the crimes of his past. The offer of such simple existence is more than he can handle.  He startles at the hand soothing him, brushing stray locks out of his hair. He is tense, unsure of the situation. "And what will you do with my servitude?"

The vampire hums, considering it for a long moment. Hanzo tenses with each passing second, wondering what sort of misery lies beyond this conceit of friendliness. 

"S'pose we can start out with a nice trip to the movies. See somethin' romantic. Then we can go revisit the Dragon's Den and finish off what we start all those years ago," Jesse proposes with such ease. Hanzo looks up, taking in the soft smile and the gentle hand. "I'm a simple man with simple wants and needs."

"You would have the former Alpha of the Shimada pack do nothing more than see a movie with you?" Hanzo is no fool.  He knows the power in his status, in his family’s name. Yet he cannot find a hint of deceit, of darker motivations in the frank smile that Jesse offers him. 

“Said I’m a simple man. Don’t need much,” Jesse laughs. He eases his body down until he’s lying opposite of Hanzo. “You don’t have to say yes to everything I ask of neither. Not much of the type to tell others what to do.”

Cool arms wrap around him, holding his feverish body. They soothe him, relaxing tense muscles. Hanzo sucks in a soft breath, a rough whisper in the back of his mind telling him that he does not deserve this.

He pushes the voice back and nestles into the embrace. “Then I am yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a lot darker with a more predatory McCree, but I guess I'm bad at writing anything that's not softly sweetly romantic? Also, idk if I am capable of writing a non-angsty Hanzo. Someone save me. 
> 
> I really enjoyed writing this so I may write more one-shots within this world. (I probably shouldn't start another chaptered series...)
> 
> [say hi on tumblr](https://egoblow.tumblr.com/)


End file.
